She hated the word, but she simply couldn't think of a better one to describe the situation:

Stalemate.

No surrender by either side, or a white peace that would let them both stand down and tend to their wounds. Just an endless stalemate that had lasted for months now. Like two relatives sniping at each other over the dinner table, or two drunks who were hurling insults outside of a bar. Neither one willing to back down or to take the necessary steps to solve the problem once and for all.

Necessary? Is that what they are?

The heat she was enveloped in shifted, as Anna turned over in their bed to lay her head on top of Elsa's chest and look up at her, red hair splayed about her like a halo. "What's wrong?" she whispered quietly. She could always tell.

"I'm just thinking," she whispered back, her arms wrapped around Anna as they both pressed against each other, the cold kept at bay by her sister's warmth. She loved it. When they were in bed together she would press up against Anna and let the warmth seep through her like a constant drip between them. Sometimes the heat would drive her wild and they would make desperate love for hours, driven up and through each other until they were both exhausted. Other times, like now, they would just lay together, and Elsa would feel total safety in a way she felt nowhere else. She took one hand from Anna's back and slid it around to her abdomen, trapping it between their chests, feeling Anna's abdomen push against hers as they breathed. She slid her fingers across it, feeling the hard muscle hidden there under the still-soft skin, results of the endless training and expeditions Anna had taken on herself. Better still Elsa knew she had done it for her. Even if the rest of the kingdom thought of her as their protector (well, most of the kingdom, she admitted), Elsa knew that Anna was hers.

"Mmmmmmmm," her sister half-hummed half-gasped, her eyes half-closing as Elsa's fingers ran across her.

"Just about the kingdom. Us," Elsa whispered as her fingers danced across Anna's body, and she watched Anna react, felt her sister's body squirm against hers. If she wanted to she could go further and Anna would gladly follow her there. It was intoxicating. "Them."

She didn't have to say who they were. Anna knew, and Elsa could feel her tense up just a little at the mention. They were out there, and they weren't going away. They were the stalemate that consumed her waking hours and bothered her long into the night.

"You know what I- ah! What I think," Anna said.

She knew alright. A small part of her wanted to do it as well. Set the militia on them. Place a sword in her sister's hand and tell her find them and bring them to me. But she still just couldn't bring herself to do it. Her councillors advocated some form of entente or reconciliation but had no idea what such a truce might look like. Her generals and admirals agreed with Anna and wanted them hunted down. Prince Hans refused to take a side but reminded her that any kind of move against the Christians who wanted her dead (and Anna, never forget) would be seen as nothing less than persecution of the true faith by a demonic witch to the outside world. In her desperation she'd even asked Kristoff, and wasn't that a surprise as the queen had suddenly asked a man whose biggest job was supplying the castle ice questions of national security.

"I can't," Elsa replied.

"You want them all to love you," Anna sad, shimmying upwards 'till their faces were level, her large green eyes staring into Elsa's. Her right hand found Elsa's and interlocked it with Elsa's own, like they were two children in the womb, their hands the umbilical connecting them.

"Yes," Elsa said, practically breathing the words into Anna's mouth. It was true. As much as she wanted these…these cultists threatening her people found and brought to heel, she still wanted them to love her. It was hopeless and romantic and a little pathetic but there it was. She wanted to be the fairy-tale queen, beloved by all her people.

"You have to give up on them," Anna said, and moved her head down to Elsa's neck, planting a kiss there that made the queen-to-be shudder against her. "They don't want to love you." Anna's free hand moved up to the small of Elsa's back, and her leg pushed upward to rub at Elsa's closed thighs, as if she could force the knowledge into her sister. She wanted Elsa to see that. She wanted Elsa to realise that the people who hid in the villages and gathered at night to throw rocks at rooftops, smash pottery and shout threats at those who wore Elsa's runestone weren't misguided innocents led astray by some rabid priest. They were the enemy. "You have to do something," Anna whispered into Elsa's neck, and moved her kisses down.

In the months they had spent together since their awakening, they had learned each other all over again. Anna had learned that Elsa liked to be smothered in warmth, inch by inch. Elsa liked her to cover her totally with her body until they were both panting with the heat, fused together almost, before she really got to work. Anna could pluck open her sister like a harpist plucking out a tune. She liked to wrap herself around Elsa from behind and tease at her sister's larger breasts and her easily-roused core until Elsa's nipples were red and sore, and the sheets underneath them both were soaked. She liked to suck at Elsa's neck and wrap her arms around Elsa's belly as they twisted together and the soon-queen moaned helplessly and pawed at the bed. She liked it to take hours, so that by the time she were finished Elsa was nothing more than a raw bundle of nerves and twitches that Anna could make scream and climax with the lightest touch.

"I know, I kn- aaah!" Elsa twisted as Anna's palm on her belly rubbed at her abdomen, already slick with sweat. Unlike her, Anna wanted to be taken. If Elsa loved it when Anna made love to her, Anna loved to be fucked. Sometimes – when the thought didn't make her seethe with jealousy – Elsa wondered if it was because of Eva. The long-gone milkmaid that had taken Anna's first time, whose…work…Anna had described in rapt words that had made Elsa sweat just to hear them. Anna liked it when Elsa lay on top of her and crushed her older body against hers until the heat almost consumed them both. When Elsa took charge she pushed herself against her sister and whispered over and over thickly; more? And Anna would grit her teeth to stop from screaming yes as Elsa did it just the way her sister had taught her, working her fingers inside, using her thumb against that small bundle of nerves that made Anna bite the sheets hard enough to imprint them, Elsa's other hand and tongue wandering over every other part of her. When Anna came she shook like lightning had struck her, arching her body even harder against Elsa's as she thrashed, and for minutes afterwards she would be insensate. That, Elsa knew with triumph, was something the damned milkmaid had never managed, and it made her feel indescribable that she was the only one that could do it. It was the connection between them, the ice wrapped around her heart that did it, she was sure.

Elsa almost never had the chance though. At night Anna ruled, and Elsa lay back and let her whisper in her ear, let the words flow together under her sister's embrace until she felt Anna's voice rather than heard it. She only had one final thought before her higher brain shut down under Anna's beautiful assault on her body and senses.

There was one final person she could go to for advice. She hadn't done to until now because, she had to admit, she was afraid. Because if he gave the wrong response then she truly would be out of options. But…

Something must be done.

"Your majesty."

"Greetings, bishop. It's still 'highness', however."

"But not for much longer,"

"So I hope."

Even though the doors to the church were huge and oak, they slid shut with a whisper rather than with the dull boom she had expected, and Elsa found herself alone with the bishop inside the Arendelle Cathedral's atrium.

Not that it was really a cathedral, she – and probably the bishop – would admit. It sat perched at the edge of town, a blue and white building that while larger than anything else around it would be just a very well-off church rather than a true cathedral. Still, it was the only one that Arendelle had, and it had always been treasured. Just looking past the old and wizened man stood before her she could see several monks and a handful of lay citizens walking or sitting inside the nave, praying and cleaning. As she looked a monk walked past, glancing up at the well-dressed visitor to the church, and walked on, not realising who their guest was. Leif had wanted her to come with an escort, with her crown, but Elsa had waved him off. She needed to talk with the man, not awe him. So she had put her tiara and more expensive clothes away and come dressed in a green shawl borrowed from Anna, on top of a simple set of well-kept leathers.

Be careful, Anna had whispered back at the castle as she fastened the cloak around her neck. She had wanted to come with her for protection, but Elsa had forbade her.

Bishop Arvid has always been a friend, Elsa had whispered back. Plus, Anna was simply too recognisable. With her hood down Elsa could be any merchant's daughter walking the streets. Anna on the other hand, with her red hair and freckles and her ice-blade, shone like a ruby amongst cobblestones.

Well, maybe not so much now that his god has competition, Anna had muttered, but in the end had stayed when Elsa left the castle walls.

"May we talk?" she asked the old man.

"It's been too long. Please." He gestured down the nave, towards the altar. "Come and sit with us."

The old wooden pews were as uncomfortable as she remembered. The chapel back in the castle had upholstered seats, god forbid a noble or a visitor should have to pray with a cold behind. She swept her cloak out from under her as they sat. "I have a problem, bishop."

"Several, I believe, your highness," Bishop Arvid of Arendelle said. She had to curse herself and remind herself that although he was so old – he had been old even when Elsa was a girl and her father had taken her here on visits – he had never been stupid. Elsa had always liked the man. With his white beard and kind smile she had always imagined that this was what God must have looked like. When he had stepped down as the royal chaplain to someone much younger that she had barely ever seen. Looking back she suspected the lack of the man's presence in her life growing up had been somewhat deliberate on the orders of her late father. It was nice to see the old man again, even if the reason for her coming was…

"Christians are attacking villages, out in the countryside."

To his credit he didn't ask if she was sure. Arendelle was a very, very long way from Rome, and the more rabid and nonsensical dogma tended to fade away fast when it ran into its first hard winter. Arendelle Church was a practical one. "I've heard."

"I can't order them to stop, as the crown-princess, or even as the queen. They think the villagers they target…I mean…the people they attack…"

"They worship you."

"I need help," she said, something she had admitted to no-one else save Anna. "I can't make them stop with words. I don't want to use more."

"What would you ask of me your highness?" he asked gently.

She took a deep breath. She smelled polish. Oak and incense. "Is there nothing you can do? Talk to them?"

"The souls you need to reach don't visit me here, your highness," Bishop Arvid said, his voice tinged with sadness.

She had to fight hard to make it sound like she wasn't pleading. "I need to make them stop, somehow."

The bishop shifted on the pew, his cane tapping against the wooden floor. "When was your last communion, your highness?" He waited a second. "Or your last confession?"

Elsa stayed silent. She knew the point he was making. But what could she say? The church had simply never been a huge part of her life the way it was for most royalty. What would she say? I confess I spent my childhood inside my father's castle because I command powers beyond all other men. And what else could she say now? When the truth was so much worse? I confess I spend my adult life with Anna in incestuous sin. I confess my little sister sucks my breasts until I come. I confess I bend her backwards over our bed and put my fingers inside her until she screams.

He went on. "If you re-acquainted yourself with God maybe they would be placated. They fear you because they think you want to stand above Him."

"That's not a reason to…" she started angrily, but before she could work herself up further he raised a hand.

"No, of course it isn't. I will gladly speak at my sermon this Sunday your majesty, but I fear this rift won't be easily mended with words."

She sighed. No. She hadn't thought so. She didn't know what she had thought coming here. "I just want us all to live together."

"You remind me of your father, your highness. Your grace and your strength I can't imagine the pressures you bear. Could you indulge an old man?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

"Of course bishop."

"Show me."

She took a deep breath, and held up her hand to her face, palm upwards. On command, the air twinkled, and as the bishop watched a perfect six-pointed snowflake grew and spun slowly on her hand.

"Beautiful."

"And yet…" she started, but didn't know where to take it. The snowflake faded away, and she lowered her hand back to her lap.

"They look and see evidence of something that challenges their faith," the old bishop said kindly, and brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. For a second Elsa felt like she was a young child again. "I see something beautiful that only reaffirms it."

"I wish everyone saw it the same way," she said.

"I hope I'll see you here more often your highness," the Bishop asked from the top step.

Elsa turned away from the carriage. "Me too," she replied, but knowing that she was lying.

She climbed back into the carriage without a fuss, to be greeted by…

"Well?" Anna asked brusquely. She looked angry. Wait, no, not angry. Nervous.

"I was perfectly safe Anna," she said softly, brushing a hand down Anna's cheek. Anna's hand came up and grabbed it, kept it there.

"What if it had been him, though?"

"It isn't."

"But-"

"Anna."

"Sorry," her sister whispered, one foot tapping on the floor of the enclosed carriage. She was dressed for combat, in the manner that people had gotten used to, and in some cases prayed for. No more cheap or borrowed leather now. Anna wore a set of chainmail made especially for her by the castle armourer, with green tints on the edges of the metalwork. A white leather scabbard wrapped around her from shoulder to hip, with her sword – Elsa's sword – buckled to it. A white cloak went over it, the same white cloak that she had been wearing when she had met Elsa in the woods when they had finally came to each other. She looked like a storybook knight, radiant and beautiful.

Anna saw her staring, and blushed. "What? What?"

"Nothing," Elsa said, and smiled. That only made Anna blush harder. "Take us back to the castle, please."

"Did he help, at least?"

"No," she had to admit. "He didn't."

"So…"

She came as close as she ever had to exasperation. "I can't just lock them all up Anna."

"You can!" Anna almost shouted back. "They're out there doing…doing horrible things to our people, just because of you! Not even because you're doing anything to them!"

"Anna…"

"I can't stand it Elsa, knowing they're out there," Anna whispered, see-sawing between anger and worry like a small child. It broke her heart to watch. She wanted to find the words to make her stop, reassure her that this would all blow over. But she didn't know them. She stood and shuffled over to sit next to Anna, and gently pressed her sister's head to her own. Even through her own clothes and Anna's chainmail her sister radiated heat.

"I know. We'll find a way."

"They should pay," Anna whispered.

They may have to, Elsa thought to herself, as the coach entered the castle gates. The bishop had been her last chance to maybe salvage the situation, but his well-meaning offer was useless and they both knew it. They didn't want to be reassured. People who just wanted comforting didn't throw rocks at houses, or soak and ruin crops, or harass everyday people just for wearing the wrong jewellery.

She would meet with her councillors when they returned to the castle, and she would lock up her heart for a few hours, and plan.

"Look."

Elsa lifted herself away from her thoughts to see Anna gesturing outside the carriage. "What?

"It's Prince Hans." Even though Anna knew Elsa liked him, she still couldn't hide the note of distaste in her voice. "Wonder what advice he has for you now?"

Elsa took the guard's hand and climbed down with as much dignity as she could. On a whim she looked around the dozen or so guards in the courtyard. On all of them she saw the small glint of an iron runestone. Her runestone, now, she might as well admit to herself. And when she met the eyes of each individual guard, they bowed slightly, and looked down.

It is not done to look upon the eyes of God.

She brushed the quote from her mind and focussed it instead on Hans as the white-suited Prince approached. She opened her mouth to greet him, but whatever cursory words had been about to come out of it died before they could leave her lips, when she saw the expression on his face.

"Your highness," he said, and in his voice she heard pain and sadness. "I'm so sorry."

Take me there.

She must have said it at some point, because how else could she have found herself here? She had no memory of the journey though. When she looked back at her memory all she saw was Han telling her that there had been a serious problem. The rest was a howling void.

Then here. A small village, one of a thousand interchangeable hovels that clung to the side of the north mountain. She didn't even know if it had an actual name. There were some fields, already snowed under, and a well, already frozen. Just another small huddling of people – her people – etching out a life as best they could.

She couldn't see any bodies. The snow covered smashed stone, broken timber and dead flesh all alike.

"Your majesty, your cloak."

She ignored him. She wasn't cold. She wasn't anything at all. "How?" someone asked, with a voice that sounded like it had been breathed out through clenching teeth.

"Days ago, your majesty," a guard replied. Oh. It had been her voice.

She swung her leg over and dismounted, grateful for the leathers. She hadn't even bothered to change out, had simply unclipped the horses from the carriage and rode out, Anna screaming at her to wait as she followed as best she could, the rest of the guards scrambling to form a guard.

"How?"

"Nobody knows, your majesty," Hans replied quietly, approaching her like she was a mountain lion ready to pounce. Standing by her side, he could see her in half-profile. He had never seen her eyes like that before. They were wide and unblinking even though the slight snowfall landed on her eyelids. If he had been a superstitious man he would have sworn that they glowed.

Elsa walked what was left at the village, Anna at her side, hand on her blade. She could see from the burnt-out husks – because of course they had used fire, of course – where the village headsman had lived, where the small smithy had been. The four stakes and longer piles of snow that were almost certainly the stable and its occupants. And behind it all, the north mountain. This close she had to crane her neck to see the peak, the snow still streaming from it like a flag.

"Elsa…"

She stayed silent and kept walking, her eyes dragged this way and that way by some force she couldn't resist. The guard trailed behind her, unsure of what to do. Outside, she looked calm, shocked. She looked up at the mountain, her birthstone. Her rock when even Anna couldn't wipe away her doubts.

I'm responsible.

Only they are responsible. Look.

She looked, towards the centre of the ruined village. It had been placed badly, already tipping under the weight of the snow and ice on its horizontal beams. But still the cross stood, surrounded by piles of snow. She knew what they hid. A statement and a challenge all rolled into one.

You can't stay silent now, the mountain said, and she knew whatever part of her own soul was speaking through it was right.

"Your highness!"

She turned as the voice shouted, to find her guard gathered around one of the burned-out houses. They were tugging at something, dragging a dull brown shape from the ruin. She watched as what could have been a burlap sack was pulled from the ruins, and watched as one of her men grabbed it and pulled, making the rough hood fall from the face of the man. She heard Anna hiss beside her like a snake at the dead man.

"Maybe his horse died, and he couldn't leave with his friends."

Good.

"Shame we can't question him," Anna said, and by the way her hand gripped the pommel of her sword Elsa was almost glad he was already dead. Anna's expression wavered between fury and sadness. She could practically feel her heart beating at a mile a minute.

"Queen Elsa, here."

Without permission, Hans had moved past her and knelt by one of the snow-covered bodies that surrounded the cross. He lifted his hands and in his fist she saw the glint of a small chain, and the dull iron rectangle that was attached to it. As if she needed to see it to know why they had done this. Her people. Her people.

"Dig them up," she said. "Dig them up and we'll bury them properly before we leave." Somehow the thought of leaving them all here made her terrified. They deserved better than this. They…

She swept out a hand, and the snow that coated the village reared up like a carpet. Suddenly the violence underneath was revealed, and Elsa heard one of the guard behind her retching.

"God damn them," someone whispered.

Yes. I will. "Bury them, the ground will be soft enough," she said. "Then we'll return." And she would meet with her generals. This was her fault, and although she knew Anna and Hans and Kristoff would try to convince her otherwise she would always know it. Even though she was nearly a queen she had treated these people like they were just brats, that she could bring around with enough nice words and a few promises. No more of that.

"Your majesty, if you would…" Leif asked hesitantly.

"Hmmm?" She looked up at him and he flinched away from her gaze, fathoms deep and cold as ice.

The young captain cleared this throat. "We can't leave while…"

She followed his hand as he gestured back, and looked to see him pointing at the edges of the village. Oh. The snowfall had stopped inside while they had been there. Instead a wall of swirling ice and snow encircled the small village, reaching up so high into the air Elsa couldn't see the tops of the trees. They were inside the eye of a typhoon. Her typhoon. Like instead of flowing through her body the anger and fury had flowed through the weather instead.

"I'm sorry," she said, and with barely a thought the raging wall around them began to calm. A few of her guard – Leif included – clutched at their breasts. No doubt holding the small runestones they had there.

"Anna. Prince Hans."

"Yes?" her sister replied from her elbow. She sounded so worried. Her precious Anna. She loved her so much.

"Your majesty?" the man from the Southern Isles asked.

"When we return to the castle, call my generals."

"Yes your majesty."

Anna kept her horse close to Elsa's as they began to ride back to the castle. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to cry and she wanted to pick something up and break it. But Elsa needed her now, more than she ever had before. So she had to be a rock, like the mountain they were riding away from.

"I'm sorry," Elsa said, and the voice that came from her mouth didn't sound like the kind, confident woman that Anna loved to fiercely. It sounded like a small child apologising for doing something wrong, and the way it sounded made Anna deeply afraid.

"You've done nothing wrong, Elsa. It was all them." All them, all them, ALL THEM! She kept her hands firmly on the reins, away from her scabbard. She didn't know what her hands would do if she let them loose. I'll make them pay.

"I know," Elsa replied, and Anna wasn't sure whether she meant about the villagers, or replying to what she was thinking.

Elsa wasn't thinking about either. She was thinking about the mountain behind her, like it was whispering in her ear. She was right though, she had to do something. She had tried to make them love her and they had responded with…with this. So be it.

If she couldn't make the whole country accept her by changing their minds, she would make the country accept her by removing them.

Elsa rode back to the city in silence, and thought about her coronation.

Merry Christmas! Yaaaaaaay! I hope everyone had a good time. Consider this a little present to everyone who's been nice enough to follow along with the story. We're approaching, if not the end, at least the bend before the final stretch. Updates won't be as regular as they used to be but they'll be back to something approaching it. See you soon. :)

New Queens will be going up on New Years Day.